


Hey assbutt, touch yourself.

by benedictcumberlongpond



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benedictcumberlongpond/pseuds/benedictcumberlongpond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mild prompt from a friend, this ridiculousness spilled out. Dirty talk and Destiel, enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey assbutt, touch yourself.

The perks of finally dating Cas were numerous. 

There was the whole spooning in bed thing, the teaching-and-ex-angel-how-to-give-head (that was _awesome_ ), and the fact he could take away that little crease between Cas’ eyebrows with a carefully placed kiss. 

There were cons though. 

First of all, _no one_ had been surprised. Dean had at least suspected an eyebrow twitch from Sam when he told his brother that Dean was apparently a big gay girl for Cas, but Sam had just muttered ‘cool’, and then asked what was for dinner. 

Second of all, there were certain things Cas – even as a human – just didn’t _get._

Dean was made acutely aware of this at random intervals, such as the one that had just presented itself. 

To be fair to Cas, it wasn’t his fault that they had ended up this way, with Cas hovering near the bed and Dean with a hand wrapped around his own erection, paused in the act of masturbation after Cas had looked him directly in the eye, lowered his voice, and said out loud: 

“Hey, assbutt. Touch yourself.” 

Dean was the opposite of aroused. 

It had started with Dean walking in on Cas cooking dinner. He was wearing an apron and there were smudges of flour on his face despite the fact he didn’t appear to be using flour in the cheeseburgers he was making. It was _too_ damn endearing. 

He was wearing one of Dean’s shirts that was rucked up at the back, exposing the tan skin just above his loose-fitting jeans, and when Cas spilled ketchup on his hands and contemplatively licked it off – well, that’s when Dean’s brain flicked over from ‘my boyfriend is adorable’ to ‘I want my boyfriend to fuck my brains out.’ 

But Cas was cooking dinner, he was entirely occupied, and Dean was a goddamn considerate person. So he decided to look after the problem by himself. 

Which was all ok, until Cas came in to tell him that dinner was ready – eye contact was made, the sentence was uttered, and an erection had flagged. 

“Cas, what the shit did you just say to me?” 

“I was attempting to dirty talk, Dean.” Cas said, frowning. 

Dean pursed his lips, half of him wanting to laugh but knowing it would upset the ex-angel. 

“C’mere,” Dean offered instead, taking his hand off his cock to open his arms, his jeans still over his hips, just zipped down and pushed to the side. 

Cas crawled over the bed towards him, contemplative frown still between his eyes, and Dean took great joy in pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead until his expression smoothed and he allowed Dean to capture his lips. 

They kissed gently, Dean rubbing his hands over Cas’ back and shoulders until he was pliant against him, hands braced either side of his hips, legs folded under him. 

Dean kissed along Cas’ jaw, making his way to his ear until his lips were right _there._

“Cas,” Dean whispered, his voice low. 

“Yes, Dean?” Cas replied, his voice slightly shaky. 

“You feel so good when your body is against me like this.” Dean whispered, nuzzling into his neck and biting gently. “Look so good on me, baby.” 

Cas hummed in reply, moving to straddle Dean’s hips. 

“God, couldn’t wait for you when I saw your ass in those jeans. Just wanted to bend you over in the kitchen, get you all sloppy and open with my mouth and then fuck you against the kitchen bench.” Dean emphasised the sentence by thrusting his cock against Cas’ slowly hardening one, and Cas let out a little gasp. 

“But you were busy, baby. So I came in here to take care of it myself. I was wet for you, sweetheart, had precum all over my cock for you. Wanted you to be here to make you taste it.” Dean whispered, pulling the shirt over Cas’ head and setting to work licking and biting at his nipples until Cas was arching in to him, fingers scrambling over Dean’s scalp. 

“I-I think I’m learning, Dean.” Cas commented, and Dean quirked an eyebrow. 

“Try me,” he offered, biting down against the sensitive flesh. 

“Nng, _fuck.”_ Cas managed. “W-want you to- to lick me open, Dean.” 

And hey, Dean’s erection was back. 

“Want you to fuck me with your tongue until I’m loose enough for your cock, and then-”

_“Fuck,_ Cas.” 

“And then I want to r-ride you.” Cas said, fingers tight against Dean’s scalp as he rocked his hips into Dean’s. 

“Yeah, baby, you got this.” Dean said softly, swiping a hand over the bulge in Cas’ jeans. “Just tell me exactly what you want.” 

“What I w-want?” Cas stuttered, his cock seeking out Dean’s hand with hurried thrusts from his hips. 

“Yeah, baby, what do you want?”

“I want-”

“Come on, baby.” Dean whispered, leaning forward to flick his tongue over Cas’ earlobe and then bite down. 

Cas exhaled shakily _“I want to play twister.”_

Dean sighed, erection flagging. 

Yeah, there were definitely cons to dating Cas. 

But a few minutes later, sprawled under his boyfriend with his left foot on blue and Cas’ right hand on yellow, and adorable little giggles escaping him – well, Dean decided he didn’t mind that much.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)


End file.
